It's That Time Of Year Again
by an ocean of weltschmerz
Summary: With December comes the holiday season, and that means something different to everyone. :a series of 25 oneshots/drabbles, various characters and genres:
1. never enough

**A/N: This is for Payson-Nicky-forever's 25 Days of Christmas Challenge.**

**The first prompt is Christmas dinner.**

**Warning: Deals with anorexia.**

**(I'm sorry. There will be happy ones later, I promise.)**

* * *

_"I am the space between my thighs, daylight shining through."_

~_ Wintergirls, Laurie Halse Anderson_

* * *

It's killing her from the inside out, and by the time anyone cares enough to notice, it'll be too late.

Because no amount of ambrosia or nectar can ever make her look in the mirror and see what everyone else sees.

* * *

She remembers how _magical _Christmas used to be. The way the entire month of December was spent in anticipation, the night she'd fall asleep trying to stay up for Santa Claus, the morning she'd sprint downstairs to rip open presents.

This year, though, she just wants it all to be over.

* * *

She _wants_ to eat, she really does, and it all looks so _delicious _she can barely resist._  
_

She has to resist, though. _Has_ to, because the number on the scale hasn't gone down much and she still wants to cry every time she sees it, grey figures on the small blue screen, screaming 'FAT'.

* * *

Step-mother's made quite a feast this year. She doesn't want to think about the food, because if she does she knows her self-control will crumble.

She can't help but feel that this meal is to show her that they are a perfectly happy family now, that does happy-family things like cook Christmas dinner, and she isn't part of it.

Sure, she's at dinner, but there's still a void between her them, and she feels like she's intruding.

It all looks so _yummy_, thoug-

Gods.

Sometimes she doesn't know if it's worth it at all.

Skipping meals, saying no to what she so desperately would like to eat, all just to see that number go down by mere fractions of pounds.

Gaining it back when she does decide to eat. Hating herself more than ever when that happens.

She wants this to stop, wants out ever so badly, wants to not feel this way anymore.

But as long as she can look in the mirror, she'll be able to see her thighs (they should be half the size they currently are) and her stomach (why isn't it flat _why must she be_ _so fat_?) and it'll make her want to never touch food again.

Sometimes she'll feel like she's making progress, and then she'll see the other Aphodrite girls. Skinny, gorgeous, and they get to eat. It's not _fair_, so she insults them, but even that doesn't make her feel much better.

That's part of the reason she hates Piper so much. Absolutely beautiful, and _doesn't_ _seem to like it_, when there's not too much she wouldn't give if it meant she would be pretty.

She's been trying so hard for it, and _still_ isn't beautiful, why is it so easy for _them_?

Every single time they talk about how fat they are, she takes it personally. She can't help but wonder how fat they must think she is.

She's not one of those too-skinny girls deluded into thinking she weighs to much.

She knows that she _really_ is fat.

She also knows that no matter what it takes, she is not going to stay that way.

* * *

She fills her plate, because they can't suspect anything.

Not that they'd actually care.

She wants to be anywhere but at that dining table with the chandelier shining overhead, glaring at her.

Isn't she supposed to be enjoying this?

Isn't that what Christmas is about?

What's wrong with her?

* * *

She raises the fork to her mouth. The salad is mocking her, begging to be eaten.

just.

one.

bite.

She lowers it again. She will be strong. She doesn't need to eat.

(She isn't even good at starving. Lovely, another reason to hate herself.)

* * *

If she can't be beautiful, then there's nothing going for her.

She's a daughter of Aphodrite, for gods' sake.

why.

isn't.

she.

pretty.

enough.

* * *

Smile, nod, make polite conversation. Compliment the food she isn't eating.

Pretend she's completely okay, that she isn't falling apart at the edges.

She's gotten quite good at it.

* * *

Maybe she should just give it up. She's not pretty yet, maybe she'll never be pretty.

She wishes she could stop caring and just be happy, but it matters to her, too much. And she hates herself more for it.

* * *

She slices the meat into smaller and smaller pieces, hoping it'll go away.

* * *

It''s not even just eating vs. not eating, because when she does eat, she cannot help but feel absolutely awful about it.

There are times when she'd just like to bang her head repeatedly against a wall because the thoughts won't go away and her brain is a constant battle over whether or not she should eat.

It used to be that not-eating made her feel better. Now it just makes her feel worse.

* * *

Too quickly, she excuses herself, muttering something about last-minute presents.

She gets up before anyone can see her still-full plate, and carries it into the kitchen.

Her stomach is begging, but the contents end up in the garbage.

Nobody pays attention, because she's a normal, healthy girl.

* * *

Back in her room, she brings out her scale.

She knows that it's an awful idea, but she can't help it.

It's the same as yesterday. Not even a tenth of a pound down.

She wants to scream, to break something.

Instead, she collapses on the bed. She wants to cry, and maybe it would make her feel better, but the tears won't come.

[failure / you'll always be fat / you will never look good in a bikini / you need to never eat again / you love eating / no you don't / food is nice / food is disgusting never go near it / you're so ugly / nobody will ever love you]

* * *

Life would be easier if food would stop tasting so great.


	2. let it snow

**A/N: Prompt- snow**

**Damnit. It's late. Only by three and a half hours?**

**I'm so sorry, I was planning on editing it, then I fell asleep.**

**This one's terrible and short, sorry.**

* * *

_"I thought we could wait for the snow._

_To wash over Georgia and kill the hurt."_

_~ Three Cheers for Five Years, Mayday Parade_

* * *

It was snowing. The kind of snow that made it seem like everything would be okay, even if you knew otherwise.

The kind the came down in gorgeous swirls, coating everything with a layer of white, transforming the city into something straight out of a fairytale.

From the window, he can't see they greyish sludge already forming on the edges of the roads, or the way the smooth blanket is littered with footprints.

It's the kind of snow that makes you want to believe in magic.

It just makes him miss her more than ever.

* * *

"Come onnn, Bianca. Jake's challenged me to a snowball fight. I've _got_ to win."

She sighed, exasperated, but he could tell by the amusement in her eyes that's she would give in.

There are many sisters who wouldn't want to be seen with their little broespecially ally at school. Bianca was never like that.

She used to always find time for him.

Needless to say, they won the snowball fight. Easily.

* * *

He'd come inside covered in snow, cheeks bright red, but he'd be grinning.

She would scold him, but it was obvious that she was trying not to smile, so it was okay.

She always made the best hot chocolate- warm, but not too hot, with the perfect amount of marshmallows and whipped cream.

* * *

They'd shovel the driveway together, and it would nearly always end with one or both of them covered in snow, succumbing to giggles.

Okay, maybe it took them a while to get the job done.

It was definitely worth it.

* * *

They'd hold hands as they'd make their snow angels, oblivious to the cold, as kids can be.

(they swore they'd always stick together, but now she's gone where he cannot follow)

* * *

There was the time their bus was late, and it began to snow.

Not prepared, he shivered, obviously freezing.

Without a word, she shrugged of her jacket and draped it around him.

She didn't once complain, although he could only imagine how cold she was.

That was the kind of sister she had been- perfect in every way.

* * *

One afternoon they decided they would build the best snowman ever.

It ended up almost as tall as him, and they'd been quite proud of it.

The eyes and mouth needed to be made with pebbles of the precise shape, the nose the exact size, and branches for arms the correct shape. It was finished with an old sweater of his.

He still has the photos somewhere.

* * *

Catching snowflakes on your tongue is much better when you have someone to do it with.

* * *

Sometimes, he'd be able to convince her to come sledding with him.

He loved it, the faster the better, and she'd humor him, even though he knew it wasn't her favorite.

* * *

The snowfall brings back all those memories and more, and he wishes he could somehow have another chance to speak to her.

Would she think of him, on a day like today?


	3. No More Cooking, Ever

**A/N: Prompt- fruitcake.**

**I'm not entirely sure what I just wrote. Hopefully it's not _too_ bad.**

* * *

In her defense, it really did not seem that difficult at first.

* * *

"Annabeth, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course it is. How hard can cooking be?"

Percy sighed. "You realize that I can't cook, and you can't cook? What makes you think we'll be able to cook something together?"

"Come on, it's just following instructions in a book. We can both read, so we should be able to cook."

"Does, y'know, _dyslexia_ maybe ring a bell?"

"Still. Almost anyone can cook. And imagine how surprised Paul and Sally'll be when they get home."

He hesitated.

"...Fine. For the record, this is entirely your idea and therefore your fault if something goes wrong."

She grinned, and handed him a few sheets of paper. "Great!"

He skimmed through the recipe.

"Why fruitcake?"

"You know. It's Christmas-y." She rolled her eyes at him, as if this was obvious. "Read me the ingredients now, will you? I'll make sure we have everything."

"Eggs, sugar, all-purpose flour, candied pineapple chun- wait, candied pineapple chunks _exist?_"

"Apparently, yes, seeing as I have them right here." She pointed to the kitchen counter, which was already full of stuff.

Never before had he realized exactly how small the counter really was.

He read the rest of the list, and (un)luckily, they had everything on it.

Five years earlier, if he'd been told that he would find himself wishing that fruitcake recipes were written in Ancient Greek, he would have laughed. Yet, here he was.

"Okay. First, we've got to chop the fruit, and combine it with the sugar."

Annabeth eyed him. "I honestly don't think you should be trusted with a knife."

"As if you'd be much better."

Ignoring Percy, she began cutting. She'd never understand how some people chopped fruits/vegetables into perfect pieces so quickly, that was for sure.

Meanwhile, Percy lined the pan and preheated the oven.

So far, it was actually going pretty well.

* * *

"Annabeth? Where did I put the eggs?"

He felt something slimy on his head, and he immediately spun around.

_"Annabeth!"_

"What?" She smiled sweetly, hiding the broken eggshell behind her back."

"Two can play this game." He smirked, picking up a measuring cup full of flour.

Needless to say, that escalated very quickly.

Soon enough the kitchen looked like it had been raided by the Minotaur, and they vaguely resembled pastries themselves.

(Seriously, how did Annaeth still manage to look pretty?)

* * *

Eventually, they remembered the cake, mixing the batter with the fruit and putting it in the oven.

They grinned at each other for a moment, and then they were kissing.

She tasted of powdered sugar and cinnamon, and he wasn't sure how that worked, but it did.

* * *

It actually looked quite delicious when they took it out of the oven.

That was a surprise to both of them: they hadn't really expected to end up with something edible.

Percy took the firs bite, and choked.

"Um, Annabeth? Is there a chance we might have mixed up sugar and salt?"

She looked at him incredulously.

"There is sugar in my _hair,_ and we put salt in the actual cake?"

Suddenly it was absolutely hilarious.

Sally and Paul took that opportunity to come home, and found the two of them laughing like five-year-olds, the kitchen still a mess, both of them still covered in ingredients.

Sometimes, it was better not to ask.


	4. love will hurt you in the end

**A/N: Prompt- present**_  
_

* * *

_"You like someone who can't like you back because unrequited love can be survived in a way that once-requited love cannot. "_

_~ John Green, Will Grayson, Will Grayson_

* * *

She'd never admit it, but the reason she still won't take off the locket is because part of her is still clinging tightly to the time he used to love her, refusing to let go.

* * *

He'd made her close her eyes as he fastened the delicate silver chain around her neck. His hands brushed her skin ever-so-gently, sending shivers down her spine.

When she looked, she had thought it was the best Christmad present ever.

The gems on the locket shimmered in the candlelight, and he told her he'd chosen a snowflake because she was beautiful and special.

(Liar. Snowflakes always melt, first into water, and then evaporating away. They're temporary, just like his love for her.)

Inside, he had placed a picture of them laughing, arms around each other as if they'd never let go.

They loved each other, they were together, and it was just beginning to snow.

She couldn't have hoped for a better Christmas morning.

(shame it ended up being their last)

* * *

She looks at that photograph now, and she has trouble believing that she had once been so happy. That _he_ had been so happy in her company, and he still left her for that daughter of Aphodrite.

(she can't help but wonder whether he ever truly loved her.)

* * *

None of this would have happened if it wasn't for Hera. They'd still be a couple.

For the first time, she understands why some demigods join the Titans.

* * *

Of course it had been Piper, who was _gorgeous_ and everything else she was not.

She can't help but be jealous of Percy and Annabeth.

Why did their relationship remain intact while she was left in love with a guy who had no time for her anymore?

It wasn't _fair._

* * *

Reyna's anything but a hopeless romantic, but even she had imagined a happy-ever-after for the two of them.

That just shows you how quickly things change.

* * *

The locket holds more than just a photo, it stores all those moments when the only thing that mattered was their love.

* * *

Kisses that snuck their way into meetings that were supposed to be strictly business. Oh, the advantages of being praetors.

* * *

Those times he was away on quests, and she'd fall asleep with the snowflake resting against her heart, because it made her feel closer to him.

* * *

Late nights spent giggling at jokes that weren't even funny, mostly due to the lack of sleep.

* * *

All those movies they'd seen, snuggled against each other. They had the exact same taste: the more violent the better.

* * *

She's reached the point where she's more angry than sad. Angry that he left her, angry that she couldn't be good enough for him, angry at the Fates for makings things turn out this way.

Roughly, she rips the locket off, tossing it to her hounds.

She watches with satisfaction as they attack it with a vengeance that matches how she feels.

It's not just the present being torn apart, it's all the memories attached to it, too, and she feels like a burden's just been lifted off of her.

Yes, she still loves him. Yes, she wishes he would feel the same way.

But she is _not_ going to dwell on it any more, even if it hurts, because she is _strong_.

She's going to get over him, no matter how difficult, because she knows he won't love her again, ever.


	5. family

**Prompt- blizzard**

* * *

_Then I'm laying out my winter clothes_

_and wishing I was gone_

_going home_

_where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me_

_~ The Boxer, Simon and Garfuknel_

* * *

What had started out a few hours ago as flurries was quickly turning into a snowstorm.

For most kids, this would be great news: a white Christmas!

The three of them (except maybe Annabeth) just wished for it to be over, because they were cold, wet, tired, and hungry. They missed summer more than ever.

Because, honestly, snow isn't beautiful when it soaks through your shoes and thin coat until you cannot stop shivering. It isn't pretty once your fingers go numb and you realize that your chances of hypothermia or frostbite are pretty high.

(and they're just kids, really, being forced to grow up too quickly)

* * *

Christmas Eve was not meant to be spent huddled in an empty warehouse.

They were supposed to be with their families, especially Annabeth.

A seven-year-old should be excitedly anticipating the next morning, promising that this would be the year she'd stay up and meet Santa.

* * *

Annabeth still has an air of innocence about her (don't worry, it'll soon be gone) and Thalia and Luke cannot help but smile at the expression of delight on her face as she watches the streets slowly being blanketed with white.

Maybe having a kid around doesn't contribute to your chances of survival, but it certainly brightens the overall mood.

She's wrapped in sweaters they would much rather be wearing themselves, but they don't complain.

* * *

Luke has a few chocolate bars he saved, Zeus only knows how. He must have been tempted over a hundred times throughout the week, and yet he kept them for them.

It wasn't luxury, but to them, that's what it seemed like.

* * *

The snow's still coming down, stubbornly showing no sign of relenting.

They play games, stupid ones, to pass the time. They're all safe for now, and they're no longer stuck with families who don't care.

* * *

During charades, they learn that Thalia can't act.

The laughter isn't the mean kind, though, and soon enough, Thalia's grinning with them.

* * *

The condensation on the windows is a perfect canvas, and one learns the kind of buildings a second-grader would design.

Naturally, they were quite... interesting.

* * *

One of them starts to hum 'Jingle Bells', and soon, they're all singing.

They go through every holiday song they can think of, and repeat them when they run out.

As the sky darkens, they're still singing, not caring how off-key they are.

That night, they made an unspoken pact to never leave each other.

Because they realized that _they_ were the family now.

A family that really loved them, a family where they belonged.

And nothing else mattered.

* * *

That was part of the reason his betrayal had hurt so much, the term 'friends' did not even begin to describe their relationship.

Now, though, he is _dead_. And even he wasn't, the hole torn between them is not so easily mended.

It's too late for things to ever be the way they used to be again.


	6. another evening alone

**Yes, it's late. Yes, I am a failure.**

**So sorry.**

* * *

He goes through the radio stations, and then turns it off with a sigh of frustration, resisting the urge to throw the radio across the room.

Was it too much to ask to just want _one_ station that wasn't playing holiday music?

Hephaestus hated Christmas. Not in the Grinch-esque destroy all happiness way, more like he just didn't _understand_ it.

Yeah, kids like Christmas. They get presents, of course they love the holiday.

But other than that, why is it do important?

A month of annoying songs that got stuck in your head too easily. Decorations. Food.

What was so great about that?

* * *

You can't understand the feeling one gets on Christmas morning unless you've experienced it, and he (obviously) has never had a chance.

It's a tragedy, really.

Everyone deserves at least one happy Christmas.

He never will now, unless you count another night spent tinkering with new latest creation.

(that's closest to happy he's been in a while, anyway)

* * *

Okay, maybe he's kind of jealous.

Maybe he wishes, just a tiny bit, that he was one of those children outside, skipping down the sidewalk and singing louder than you would have thought possible.

How wonderful must it be, to be loved unconditionally? To come home everyday, and know that you have parents who care?

It's not _fair_, because so many people don't realize how lucky they are,whine there had been a time when he would have given anything to be one of them, no questions asked.

* * *

One day, maybe he'll be able to create an automaton that actually takes the place of human company. For now, though, he'll just have to make do.

* * *

Not a single Christmas card.

He knew for a fact that each year, Aphodrite would get too many to keep track of.

He acts like he couldn't care, but it kind of hurts.

They could at least _pretend_ to like him.

* * *

Even if he didn't dislike the holiday (which he did), and even if he wanted at all to celebrate it (which he didn't), who would he spend Christmas with?

Friends?

That was funny.

Family?

Wow. Hilarious.

Wife?

She'll be spending it with Ares, obviously.

Aphodrite's only technically has wife, if she had much say, they'd be long divorced.

He's used to it. Some days he can almost convince himself that he doesn't care.

He's given up on catching them together now, it's not like anything'll make her love him.

In the end, no matter what they say, it _is _your looks that are the most important.

* * *

_"We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, and a happy New Year..."_

He frowns, and slams the window shut. It doesn't help much- they're singing to loud.

* * *

He tries his hardest to ignore it, but their voices combined with the lights on the trees and the delicate snowfall are just _dripping _happiness.

He just wants it all to be over, so he doesn't have to stare at everything he's missing out on.

* * *

_"Dashing through the snow, on a one horse open sleigh..."_

He's just going to have to wait this one out.

Maybe he should have stayed in the Labyrinth.


	7. blood

**A/N: Late. Again.**

**That was incredibly stupid of me. I'm sorry.**

**(I have an excuse, but it's going to sound pathetic. Wi-fi went out at around ten-thirty. Mom probably unplugged it because she suspected I was still online. I couldn't go down and fix it, because she'd realize she was right and then murder me. I'm sorry. I'm going to plan around that, in case she decides to make it a regular thing.)**

**Prompt- mistletoe**

* * *

The one kid standing in the corner at a party is usually easy prey. She doesn't even have to try, barely needs to turn on her charm, especially at first.

* * *

He's not even sure why he's here, to be honest. It's not like anyone's actually going to want to _talk_ to him.

It was a miracle (well, no, it was out of pity) that he was even invited, and since he probably wouldn't get another chance anytime soon, he figured he'd give this 'socializing' thing a try.

(terrible idea, that)

He wishes he'd stayed home now, because spending the night glued to the computer screen definitely beats standing in a corner near some mistletoe, staring into a beer can, and being ignored by everyone. Well, mostly.

Generally, people tended to stay away from him. He wasn't entirely sure why. Something about being a geek?

Which was why he was _really_ surprised when she starting walking towards him.

She looked like she was taken straight off of a magazine cover: brown hair the perfect amount of curly, bright blue eyes, unblemished skin, and long legs. The likes of her should be crossing the street when he walks by, and _certainly_ not coming over to him.

She smiled, and he kind of stuttered, managing to gasp out, "H-hi."

She fluttered her eyelids ever so slightly, and pointed to the ceiling. "Is that mistletoe?"

Could he detect the seductive tone in her voice, or was he just desperate enough to be imagining it?

"I- I, uh, um, I j-just-" He was great at talking to girls. One of his many talents

(Un)luckily, she doesn't seem to mind, pulling him into a kiss.

This could _not_ be happening. It was a dream, it had to be, and he's going to wake up any moment now.

(if only it had been a dream)

* * *

She deepens the kiss, shoving him against the walls and presses her body against his.

He's still mostly in shock, but he manages to kiss her back, and everything else disappears.

He's never had a kiss that even came close to this.

(that's because her presence is like a drug, stupid, you're under her spell and you're not going to make it out)

She bites on his lower lip, and he moans, that _fool_.

He's so far gone, and doesn't notice he's bleeding. He probably wouldn't care, anyway.

She could stop kissing him and focus on drinking now, but what was the fun in that? Plus, this one was kind of cute.

Imagine you had to live for a month on broccoli, and then given a bowl of the best-tasting chocolate icecream. That barely comes close to the pleasure of drinking blood, and his is the best she's had in a while.

The exact amount of sweetness + the slightest spicy tang = heaven on earth.

A human body holds can hold quite a bit of blood, but it's never enough, and she can't drink his fast enough.

Anyone else the party just see a couple taking part in a particularly disgusting PDA, nothing out of the ordinary. Not that they'd bother to look in the dim corner.

His face grows paler and paler, but he's still smiling, lost in pleasure.

He lets her drain his body of blood and he doesn't move a muscle because he doesn't.

even.

notice.

He draws a last breath, but he's still completely oblivious. At least he doesn't feel the pain.

In the morning, they'll find him dead. They doctor'll be completely baffled, but he or she won't admit that, so they'll make up some sort of story. A preexisting medical condition, maybe.

His parents will cry and people who couldn't care less will talk about what a shame it is because it's the 'right' thing to do.

She'll be out of town by then, never to return, finding more victims elsewhere.

The benefit of not being human is that you don't feel the guilt. Her lips are stained with that shade of lipstick there is only one way to acquire, and she's not sorry, not one bit.

Hey, she needs someone to feed on when there aren't enough demigods. He's just another kill added to her list.

This one will satisfy her for a while, but then she'll grow hungry once again. There will be another party, maybe a street at night.

Someone should find out and put a stop to it, but likely no one ever will. The gods are too busy, or maybe they don't care. Maybe they're glad that the mortals are dying instead of their children. The gods don't have a reputation of being compassionate.

Whatever the reason, she's glad for it. All the blood she could ever dream of, surrounding her, pulsing through their veins. So easily taken.

That poor mortal. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time, never even been to a party before.

Now, he'd never get to have a proper party experience. Never grow up. Never go to college. There was absolutely nothing he had done to deserve it.

* * *

The empousai may look human, but don't let that fool you.

They are _monsters_.

Just ask that boy's family. Ask _all_ of the families she's torn an irreparable hole in, and the families of the ones that'll die soon enough, because she gets hungry so easily and blood is so delicious.

* * *

She's out of Hectate's control, as are the other rogue ones: the ones whose victims could fill entire cemeteries.

The goddess' power is only so limited, and she cannot stop them.

They'll continue killing until the end of time, sometimes dying, but always coming back for another drink of mortal blood.


	8. holiday cheer

**Again. Gods. I really am an idiot.**

**(she turned the wi-fi off again, this time all I had needed to do was edit. okay. this is going to become a regular thing. I'll write it earlier from now on. I'm really sorry.)**

**Prompt- decorating**

* * *

"Mom, I'm home!" Percy called out with the enthusiasm shared by all nine-year-olds when they get back home after the last day of school before Christmas break.

Normally, Sally might have scolded him for being so loud, but not today. She met her son at the door with a hug. "Guess what we're doing today?"

He grinned. "Christmas tree shopping!"

She had to smile at his excitement. "Correct, ten points to Percy."

He froze in his tracks, it suddenly occurring to him. "Where's Gabe?"

To say that Percy was terrified of his stepfather would be an understatement.

"Don't worry, he's at some friend's. Probably won't be home until really late." The disgust in her voice was obvious.

Percy's smile returned, and he practically dragged his mother out the door, skipping to the car.

* * *

"This one! This one, Mom, this one!"

Sally walked over to find Percy hugging the trunk of the largest tree.

She didn't conceal her amusement.

"Percy, that won't even fit in our living room, as wonderful as it is. How about we find something more practical?

He frowned for a moment, but was soon distracted by another tree, leaving Sally chasing after him.

It took a while, but they did find the perfect tree. It was tall (but not overly so), healthy, and had needles a deep shade of dark green.

* * *

"Be careful," he advised, watching from the driveway as Sally tried to fit their new tree through the doorway. This would be a lot easier if Gabe was willing to help. Not that that would ever happen.

"Hey, this is harder than it looks. Want to try?" she teased.

Percy giggled, shaking his head no.

Needless to say, it took some time (and quite a bit of frustration) to get the tree to its spot of honor in the corner of the room.

"Ornaments!" This was Percy's favorite part.

She watched as he meticulously arranged them, according to some sort of logic that made sense only to him, lifting him up to reach the higher branches.

The pine-tree smell spread through the house, and it began to really feel like the holidays.

Sally unveiled some blue candycanes, and those also went on the tree.

He couldn't wait to try them: after all, how many times do you get to eat blue candycanes?

Some might say the effort she she put in finding blue food was ridiculous, but he loved it.

This year, Sally said he was old enough to be the one to place the star on top, so naturally, he was thrilled. He sat on her shoulders to do the honors.

She threaded the string of lights through the tree as he watched, and then turned it on.

The entire room lit up with the glow of the lights, shining with almost every color.

It was absolutely gorgeous: one of those moments that makes you want to believe in magic, even when you're an adult and you know better.

* * *

Percy rambled about the presents he wanted to get as she hung the stockings on their hooks. Two: one for Sally, and one for Percy.

(Gabe didn't seem to care much for Christmas. Anyway, most days he was drunk, to the point where he probably couldn't tell you the date. All the better for them- if Gabe was part of something, it wasn't fun anymore.)

Sally just liked listening to her son talk, no matter what he was saying.

He was at that age where you still believe in Santa Claus, and was planning out the letter he would write. No matter how tight money was, Sally would always find a way to get him what he wanted.

* * *

When you live in apartment, all those fancy lawn decorations are out of the question. That, however, doesn't mean that you can't show your holiday spirit.

On the outside of the door they hang a evergreen wreath that has a bow tied with bright red ribbons. They've had it about as far back as Percy can remember, and it makes an appearance every December.

Framing the door is a string of lights, brightly colored. It makes the dirty hallway seem a lot more cheerful.

Percy loves those lights, loves the way you can stare at it for hours, lost in the sea of color.

* * *

Tinsel hangs from the ceiling in most rooms, mimicking the icicles already forming outside.

The metallic surface serves to reflect the light, making it all look that much more beautiful.

* * *

Yes, they definitely aren't a perfect family.

Some days she doesn't know where the money for their next meal will come from, other days she works double or triple shifts, until she can barely keep her eyes open.

She'll come home and follow her husband's orders, afraid to do otherwise, even scared to complain.

A lot of the time he'll hit her anyway, and yell until Percy crawls under the covers, trying not to listen.

He makes Percy cry more often than not, and she blinks back the tears welling up in her own eyes in order to smile and tell him that everything is fine.

Somehow, she finds the energy to wake up each morning, hide the bruises with long sleeves and makeup, and go to work.

For now, though, all of that disappears.

Gabe is out, their house looks like Christmas, and they can pretend that they're one of those perfect families, like in commercials.

The warmth of the fireplace lulls Percy to sleep, his head resting against her.

It's all okay, because they're together, and Gabe can never make them stop caring about each other.

Christmas is coming, and she knows that there's no way her husband's going to ruin it for them.

Moments like these, with her son, are what keep her going when she feels like giving up.


End file.
